If It's Any Consolation
by KookieEvans
Summary: Sherlock chases away John's Valentine. John isn't best pleased.


**Disclaimer : I don't own anything recognisable.**

**Author's Notes : My first attempt at Sherlock fanfiction. Any constructive tips would be lovely. Also I'm not entirely sure why online bingo is such a problem in Sherlock's eyes. Come on Holmes, it's all fine. I hope you enjoy - it has to still be Valentine's Day somewhere, right?**

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><p>John gazed blindly at the television, his eyes blinking furiously. Sherlock eyed him cautiously from his opposing chair.<p>

"If it's any consolation-"

"It won't be."

"If it's any consolation," Sherlock tried again, shooting a glare at his roommate. "She was addicted to online bingo. Terrible habit."

"And how exactly did you know this? Oh, let me guess- from the way she tied her hair up?" John shot back sarcastically, voice tight.

"Don't be ridiculous John," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It was obvious from the type of socks she wore."

A silence fell over the flat. The shorter man took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.

"And she had a stupid nose."

"She did not!" John exclaimed and straightened in his seat, all thoughts of calming himself completely forgotten.

"Yes, she did."

"Well I liked it. It gave her more character."

"Yes. The character of someone with a stupid nose."

John looked over at his roommate in disbelief. Sherlock smirked, his legs curled artfully over the arm of his chair.

"You're making a habit of this. You enjoy chasing them away, don't you?"

"I enjoy not being subjected to the company of your stupid lady friends."

"Well I'm sorry not everyone can live up to your grand expectations. Besides, Kerry's much smarter than I am."

"Yes, and a great deal more boring."

"Damn it Sherlock!" John banged his hand against the side of the chair. Sherlock blinked lazily. "They're my girlfriends, not yours. You don't get to decide who I date. It has absolutely nothing to do with you!"

"Your dates come into my flat, eat my food and waste my time with their inane small talk. It has everything to do with me."

"Our flat Sherlock and _our_ food. You get to leave all those experiments around despite me not wanting them in _our_ flat."

"You throw out my experiments! At least I don't chuck out your girlfriends, they all leave quite willingly."

John stared, hands clenching tighter in the fabric of his chair. Sherlock raised an eyebrow minutely. John exhaled roughly at the movement and jumped to his feet, his phone in his hands in seconds. His fingers danced over the keys.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock yawned and arched his back as he stretched like a cat over his chair.

"Inviting Molly to a meal out. Not that it's any business of yours."

"You certainly moved on from Carrie remarkably fast."

"Kerry. I'm only taking Molly as a friend."

"Why take Molly at all?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to book a decent table for Valentine's day? If I can't take Kerry then I'm certainly not going to let it go to waste. Besides, I think she'll like the gesture."

"Why Molly?" Sherlock hissed contemptuously. "She'll just take an age to get ready and then make awkward and socially inappropriate jokes all night."

"I like Molly. She's sweet."

"Well why don't you just go marry Molly then?" Sherlock taunted venomously, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Stop being so immature," John rested his back against the kitchen table, eyes fixed to his phone as he continued to text. "I told you, we're just going as friends."

"I thought I was your friend."

"You are," John continued in a mutter. "God help me…"

"Then why not take me to dinner with you?"

John looked up from his phone sharply. Sherlock let his arm drop from his face to brush the floor lightly, watching his flatmate carefully.

"What, so you can celebrate chasing away yet another date of mine? You're the reason I have to find someone new to take with me. If I take you that'll be more like a reward. 'Congratulations Sherlock, for getting rid of number six'!"

"Seven."

"Hmm?"

"Seven girlfriends, not six."

"Seven," John laughed humourlessly and shook his head. "I hope you're proud of yourself."

"Exceedingly so." Sherlock didn't bother suppressing his smirk.

"You're unbelievable, you know that? Valentine's day is a time to spend with the people you love to show them that you care. If you won't extend that courtesy to me then I hardly see why I should do so for you."

Sherlock huffed, twisted his entire body around completely so that he was upside-down in his chair, his legs hanging over the back and his dangling head just brushing the floor.

"You're not even listening to me. You child."

Sherlock remained silent, gravity making the blood rush to his head. John sighed.

"I'm going out," He ground out, snatching up his jacket as he made his way over to the door. "Don't wait up."

"Pick up some milk on your way back." Sherlock let his eyes close, his mouth a small line.

"Get your own damn milk!" Came the answering call. He listened to the sound of angry footfalls on the stairs followed by the slam of the front door and he frowned. A hand slid under his chair cushion to retrieve a small envelope from its hiding place.

"Ridiculous holiday…" He grumbled to himself. He allowed only a moment to survey his own handwriting ('For John') before crumpling the card into a tight ball and hurling it across the room.

Sherlock pouted and considered the quickest way to destroy a bunch of red roses.


End file.
